A Room of Her Own
by seimaisin
Summary: Grey Warden Bethany and Teagan share a relationship, but not space.


She never stayed the night.

That first night, after she and Teagan had finished a second round of what he considered to be fairly spectacular sex, Bethany slipped from the bed and began to dress. "You could stay," he said.

She looked back at him and smiled. The candlelight played shadows across her face and her shirt hung open, leaving one of her delectable breasts uncovered - if Teagan had been a slightly younger man, he would have considered dragging her back for a third go. "No, I'm going back to my room," she said. "But thank you."

They were both staying in the royal palace - Teagan in the Redcliffe quarters, now that Eamon and Isolde had their own apartment, and Bethany in the guest room reserved for visiting Wardens. His rooms were better heated, and his bed far more comfortable than her own. But every time - and the times started to become frequent, as Teagan and Bethany's trips to Denerim began to coincide more and more often - she refused to stay and sleep. Eventually, he asked why.

To his surprise, she blushed. "It has nothing to do with you. I like having a room to myself." With a bit more prodding, she explained. "I always shared a room with my brothers when I was younger. And now, even at the Keep, there are always other Wardens around. The reason I like coming to the palace - well, one of the reasons," she corrected, pressing closer against his body and smiling at him, "is that I get my own space. Maybe it's not mine alone, but at least I get to pretend for a little while."

Teagan couldn't argue with that logic. So he let her go when she pulled away from him, and eventually fell asleep with his hand pressed against the warm indent in the sheets next to him.

He woke with an idea. He had to leave for the Bannorn that day, but he left instructions for the servants and a note for Bethany. _If you want a room of your own, you have it. Just ask one of the maids to move you. _

It was several months and three more trips to the capital before Teagan walked into his quarters and saw the second door - the door to the room that had once been Connor's, when Eamon stayed here - closed. "Mistress Bethany arrived yesterday," the maid said. "She asked not to be disturbed."

He didn't see her until later that evening. He was propped up in bed with a book when his bedroom door creaked open. She was barefoot, and wore a simple white nightdress that clung to her curves in such a way that Teagan knew she wore nothing underneath. He'd seen her naked a dozen or so times, but she always came to him and left him fully dressed, in Warden armor or a court-appropriate dress. He was used to unpeeling her layers one by one, until she met him skin to skin, shed of all the things that kept her from truly being his.

To see her like this, with the flickering lamplight making shadows dance across the pale fabric and a soft, sweet smile on her face, made Teagan's mouth go dry for reasons he didn't dare name.

He set aside his book when she climbed up onto the bed and straddled his legs. "You gave me a room," she murmured.

"I had one to spare." He smoothed her hair back from her face. "It's yours for as long as you want it."

"I might have to start inventing fake reasons to visit Denerim."

_I'll be your reason, _he wanted to say, but it didn't make any sense - he was barely in Denerim more than she was - and it was more of a romantic notion than he had any right to entertain. Instead, he leaned over and kissed her. His hands slipped underneath the thin fabric of her nightdress, and he let the cloth pool over his wrists as he filled his hands with her full, soft bottom. She let out a small, appreciative moan and wriggled closer to him, until her arms were wound tightly around him and he felt her lovely, hot warmth through his own nightclothes.

He trailed kisses down her neck. When he reached the collar of her dress, he dipped his tongue underneath the fabric and licked a stripe down to the hollow between her breasts. He brought his hands up her body underneath the dress, but while one hand cradled her full, heavy breast, he closed his mouth over a cloth-covered nipple. Bethany made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a giggle.

Somehow, teasing her half-covered body was unbearably erotic. Teagan sucked one nipple, then the other. The dampened fabric was all but see-through, with her hardened pink nipples on display as she arched her back and murmured his name. She reached for him; he let her draw his shirt off and toss it away. She leaned over and pressed her lips to his shoulder, to the faded white scar he acquired during the battle with the darkspawn, defending Denerim while the Wardens fought the archdemon. In return, he ran his hands over her belly, feeling the lines where darkspawn had marked her own flesh. He loved to press her body down into the mattress and run his tongue over each scar, reveling in the taste of soft skin over hard muscles. He tried not to imagine what happened to give her the scars - he never asked, and Bethany never offered. He knew the life of a Warden was dangerous; he didn't need to know the details, lest he spend more time worrying about her than was wise.

His grip around her waist tightened; she murmured something into his skin, words he couldn't make out but felt the meaning of nonetheless. He released her waist and brought his hands up to her face, guiding her back up so he could kiss her until it felt like his breath came entirely from her lungs.

A few moments later, she reached down between them and fumbled with his waistband. Thankfully, he was wearing loose sleep pants that were easily pushed down his legs - he had barely reached back up to touch her when she grasped his cock and sunk deep down onto him. The soft sound of pleasure she made heated his blood almost as much as the feel of her slick flesh tightening around him. He trailed his fingers down her belly and through her dark curls, finally letting two fingers press against her as she rode him, while he used his other hand to pull her body close enough that he could feel the damp cloth that still covered her breasts slide against his chest.

Watching Bethany take her pleasure was a gift he'd never tire of - the way she bit her lip when he hit just the right spot, the moment when she lost her last shred of rational thought and increased the erratic motion of her hips until she crested with a high-pitched cry. He never lasted much longer than she did; the feel of her spasming around him combined with the look of bliss that always crossed her face as she came down was too much to resist. This time, she cradled him in her arms as he came, murmuring more indistinguishable words into his hair while he buried his face in her neck and lost himself.

After they were both spent, Teagan slid down to lay his head on the pillow, tugging her with him. She curled up next to him, her legs tangling with his and her head leaning against his shoulder. They lay like that for quite some time, until he realized Bethany was drifting to sleep. "Time to go back to your room?" he asked, stroking her cheek.

"Mmmm," she murmured, her voice little more than a breath against his skin. "Can I stay here?"

He blinked. "Are you sure?"

"My room is there when I need it," she whispered. She pressed closer to him and fell away from awareness on a long, slow sigh.

Teagan draped an arm over her and fell asleep with a smile on his face.


End file.
